


A Better Lot

by Elleth



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Extra Treat, F/F, Fix-It, Triple Drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2019-01-18 01:14:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12377871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elleth/pseuds/Elleth
Summary: Aerin and Rían change their stories.





	A Better Lot

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zdenka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zdenka/gifts).



> Your Rían/Aerin prompts were lovely. Hope this works for giving them a better lot. ♥

Rían is a shy girl, quiet except for songs falling from her lips like sunlight, combat against the memories that cling to her like the smell of smoke. Aerin admires from afar, wakes to songs beneath her window or singing in the meadows. At daybreak, she spots Rían slip among the flowers, returning with armfuls of herbs to cure this ill or that. 

She longs hopelessly, feigns coughing so Rían brings her tea that's sweet with honey, and a song of comfort, and turns her head away: her own cousin coaxes smiles from Rían, brighter than any Aerin's yet seen.

*

A cloud draws over Rían's eyes in the quiet after the war, the full bloom of her summer dimmed by grief. She sings all the louder, to the child in her, of the happier fortune taken from them. Aerin holds her, neither weeps: all hands are needed to establish a defense, dig hiding places, for there's an army coming; Dor-lómin is now Morgoth's fiefdom. 

When Aerin has time, she gathers flowers, hoping for a spark of light in Rían's eyes. Rían takes them, finally understanding, picking out the herbs with sure fingers: they'll need medicine, if - when - they escape together.

*

Rían roams more widely, and one morning stands beneath Aerin's window with a blush in both her cheeks, one pack across her shoulders, a second at her side. She's weeping at last, when her hand curls tight around Aerin's, and Aerin notes her wedding band is gone. 

She dares not question it, nor call it luck. They run into the autumn fields, still wet with morning dew, like they are girls again, but further until they reach the distant mountains, where they say the Sindar live, as if out of tales receive them, and safely guide them to the sea.


End file.
